


bugs under the walls and the mattress

by LedLightsForHope



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, Character Death, Gen, No Romance, No Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-25
Updated: 2021-01-25
Packaged: 2021-03-18 07:00:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28988187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LedLightsForHope/pseuds/LedLightsForHope
Summary: Your in the right.Everything you did.You were right.right?so when the paint peels away. and reveals the bugs. pray you were right. please.
Relationships: No Romantic Relationship(s)
Comments: 11
Kudos: 32





	bugs under the walls and the mattress

Tommy lay in the grass, a smile endlessly plastered on his face. It was cold, and the snow fell on him. Death was a funny thing, that’s what he was thinking. He was going to die, he knew that, he accepted that. All he didn’t want was to leave without a last word, so he hoped someone would deliver the pile of letters he left on the table. He hoped someone would find his body. 

After all though, Tommy was scared. Scared he would be alone, scared to die but not of death itself. Dying alone though, in the cold, as a blanket of snow covered him. He started to hum a tune, Swan Lake. It comforted him, brought back memories of a day where a leader didn’t go insane. 

Where a warrior never fell, never left him. Where a father never picked favorites, never hurt a leader. Where Tommy had been happy, and just maybe the thoughts, the memories were true.

Tommy remembered the leader, who had built a country with him. From shattered pieces of the earth they built a glass country that was fragile to the touch. So in any story, and piece, it broke in the end, bringing down the leader with it. The leader, who was killed by his own father. The leader did not die alone.

Or the warrior, the old warrior. Who once fought for the right things, but changed. Who once taught a young boy to fight, who taught him strength and smiles and hope. The warrior had always been the favorite. The warrior did not, would not die at all. 

The father, the father who was brave came at the wrong time. He should have stayed out of it, or been there since the start. He didn’t shatter the glass, no he only brought the bat to the man who did. The father who taught a young boy what life was. The father did not die, and he wouldn't die alone.

The young boy of course, Tommy, who had taught everyone leadership, friendship, kindness. Tommy who had fought for everything he cared about. Who had cried at night without anyone seeing. The young boy would die alone, and he did. 

  
  


Weeks later, a warrior came, and found Tommy’s body. He found the letters, he found those letters, the last words of a man not afraid of death. He rode his horse back to Dream SMP and handed the letters to everyone who would have one. Tears were shed, on that day. Tears and empty promises of sorrys.

_ To a Warrior- why didn’t you come sooner? You betrayed me, I betrayed you? You still could have saved me. Why didn’t you save me? That’s ok, torn to pieces,ripped apart, I’m sorry.  _

_To a Father- it's ok. i get to meet wil. thats good right? you could have stayed, you could have done something, but you didn't. fuck you for picking favorites, fuck you for fighting a war to never win. thank you though, for those old memories._  
  


_To a Owner- you never had a choice, i get it, but maybe you could have cared about me. i was a puppet, everyone was. but you cant pull cut strings, right?_

_To a Friend- it wasnt your fault. dont blame yourself. i took the easy way out. you dont get that privilege._

_To a Traitor- i forgive you, like a lot. i dont know why. you changed. although you weren't there for me. no one was._

_To a Baker- You did nothing wrong, exc-except you weren't there for me. no one was. so maybe, though your cookies were good, ill take some of those again one time if youll make a batch for me._

_To a Enderman- you were so mysterious, im glad i defended you. you visited and then you stopped. why? not much to say, not much._

_To a man with little words- an ally once, a friend, then a enemy, then a friend. you killed my pets. thats ok. i didnt know you well. not much at all._

_To the funniest man and the silent secrets- you were stupid you know. you could have saved me. thank you for not. rule well, even though you would not rule at all._

_Grandson's of a word- sorry. thats all. didnt mean to bully you. he loved you. he told me one night. he built lmanburg for you. all for you._

**To everyone and anyone- i was a child. how could you do that?**

**\----------------:)----------------------:)--------------------------:)-----------------------------------:)-----------------------------**

Phil put his head in his hands. He had failed. As a father, a friend, a person. Now he couldn't take the easy way out. Like Tommy had said to Tubbo, in the letter. The letters hurt. 

The thing that hurt most was the fact Tommy was dead, he could never talk to his son again. Tommy. Tommy who would run with Techno through fields and laugh. Tommy who sat quiet with Wilbur, as he strummed his guitar. 

Tommy. 

There was a saying, by Wilbur, by Eret. 

**It was never meant to be**

But Tommy was meant to be. Phil stood, his diamond sword swinging by his side, and blood that trickled down his ankle from the skeleton earlier. But overall Phil was tired and he wanted to sleep. He wanted to sleep and just never wake up from the nightmare that life creates. 

Phil walked out of his home, and to the flower field where he saw a guy, sitting, twirling a flower in hand.

"Tubbo? What are you doing in the garden...?"  
  


"I was thinking Phil, this was Tommys favorite flower. Do- do you think he forgives us?"

"Maybe." 

The truth is, Phil didn't know either. 

When Phil was a kid, he was poor. He didn't have a lot of money, he got small jobs, here and there, finally saved up to go to school at age 8. 8. He went to school, all A's student. He went to a college, got a job in architecture. A 5 year project, got enough money. He wanted some kids. Adopted Techno first. He found Techno at a orphanage, with bruises on his face, and he was quiet. But a amazing fighter, so when he warmed up to Phil, he and Phil would train until sunset, as the sky set and smiled at the people fighting in the dim lit field. 

Then there was Wilbur, who he found playing for coins in the town square. Strumming his guitar, he saw Techno throw in 3 dollars. Phil went over to Wilbur, who could be no older then 5. "Where are you parents bud?"

Wilbur just pointed to the ground. 5 days later, Wilbur lived with him and Techno, and he was amazing at music. The first song he learned was Swan Lake. 

Tommy next, found curled in a ball in the cold. He was bloody, and skinny with a small smile on his face. No one talked about where Tommy came from, but Phil knew. Phil knew what they did to kids, work till you drop for a small portion of food. Tommy, Wilbur, Techno. Two dead, One gone. 

Phil had failed. Phil had failed. 

_Yet somewhere, Tommy and Wilbur watch there father weep, and whisper silent words of sadness, that he will never hear._

**_\------------------:)-------------------------------------:)------------------------------:)------------------------:)-------------------_ **

Techno sat quietly in his chair.

The sun slowly was setting, and he smiled.

It had never occurred to him, that anybody really cared.

Sure, there was the occasional friend but they all left, because everyone does.

That's just how it goes

First it was Phil. Phil who made you tea and hugged you when you didn't feel to good. Made you soup and you could watch movies and fall asleep slumped on couches and maybe realize your happy because you are. Phil who stabbed his own son in the back. Phil who couldn't breathe some nights. Phil who had panic attacks and nightmares. Phil who cried himself to sleep. 

But then he met Wilbur, the guy who would play his guitar and smile to light up rooms. Wilbur who was funny and was someone you might want to sit and watch the stars with, and maybe breathe in the fresh air and feel safe. Wilbur with his stupid poems and laughs that echo. Then Wilbur with his obsession to rule. His lifeline to a country of glass. A stupid, stupid country that split his love apart. 

Tommy he met last. Tommy who was loud but could be quiet. Tommy who was a good listener, who painted with such great detail, words he would paint, art in its finest form. Tommy who was to loyal to objects and people to much. Tommy who was destroyed by a country that his brother created. Tommy who was destroyed by longing and his own words. 

Techno though they would leave him to. Maybe they should have. Did Techno deserve them?

No, not really. He didn't deserve Tommy's quiet, small gifts to show he cared, like a flower or a gem he had found, that made him think of Techno. Or the songs that Wilbur would hum to Techno, just to Techno, like he special, made for the song itself. Or Phil's constant word's of praise when he did something right.

Techno did know one thing though. Chaos. Chaos he met last. Chaos who split his picture perfect friendship, no family apart. His picket white fence family with the white painted walls. Those white painted walls and carved on smiles. But when the paint started to peel and the bugs crawl out and under the skin to make you believe you special, you realize. You realize it wasn't perfect after all. That chaos always wins. That chaos makes it so, not all storys have happy endings. Because not all of them do. Wilbur's story, Tommy's Story, and his own. His own story would not have a happy ending. 

Techno always wanted to be a hero. 

He planned to die like one. 

Far away, on a dark but moonlit room, Wilbur lays in bed. His smile is carved on, his heart broken, glass covering his body. Wilbur sobs for the broken lives he has created, and the ones soon to come.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This took me super long so leave a comment if you liked it! 
> 
> I love to read long comments and its interesting for me aha. 
> 
> also comment your fav line??? makes me happy anhwjheuijw please
> 
> anyway wrote this at 3am so enjoy pog


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